


Smitten

by dharma_club



Series: Bad Apples [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Regency, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharma_club/pseuds/dharma_club
Summary: William meets Auston in Paris.Random, stand-alone scene that happens about a year and a half beforeWhat’s so bad about an apple?
Relationships: Auston Matthews/William Nylander
Series: Bad Apples [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628896
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Smitten

**Author's Note:**

> Written to make some backstory clearer to myself, shared because I love this version of Willy way too much.
> 
> Huge thanks to Kit ([alexdetwinkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeBreakfastNotWar/pseuds/alexdetwinkat)) for the quick and efficient beta.  
> And I apologize for the bad french. It's been awhile.

The alpha sitting next to him reaches and places his hand on William’s knee, then leans in, smiling a toothy grin. He smells _de trop_ , almost revolting. 

“ _Monsieur_ ,” William admonishes, almost bored. He is aware that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his scent speak for itself. But William is tired, he regrets going out tonight at all, and having a stranger’s hands on him will not help to elevate his spirits. 

The alpha apologizes, standing up and bowing, his enthusiasm to talk to William weaning now that is clear William is not interested in furthering their acquaintance. 

William sighs, looking around him. The ball is in full swing now, couple laughing, dancing, the sound of clinking glasses and cheerful voices filling the halls. William should join his friends, but he would rather sit alone for now. 

Paris has been wonderful to William these past three years, but it’s not home. He misses his mother and father, his brother, his sisters. He feels the loneliness like a ring tightening over his heart with every day that passes. Paris was not meant to be a punishment, and how could it be, with William’s uncle taking him in as if he was his own and William’s father arranging for unlimited funds for his firstborn son. Paris was meant to be a second chance and a clean slate for William’s broken heart.

In some ways, it has worked. Paris has taught William to smile again, showed him how much of life there is to enjoy; how much there is still in store for him as his own person. He burns with the shame of how small he was, how sad and miserable he felt, sitting at his father’s office, begging not to be sent away just so he could stay close to David. 

David, David, _David_. It still feels dangerous thinking of him like this, especially when William is already sensitive to homesickness. 

“Bon soir,” a voice says and William raises his eyes. The man in front of him is tall and his shoulders are wide, he is well dressed, if not exactly fashionable by Paris standards. His cravat is tied in the most dreadful way and he is far too tan for a man of any statue. And yet, he looks unflinchingly at William, his eyes shining with confidence.

William bows his head coyly, intrigued. 

“Puis-je demander pourquoi êtes-vous assis seul?” the man asks in the worst French William has ever heard. He laughs, loud and rolling, it’s a little rude, but the man has just approached him with no prior acquaintance or introduction and really, William would be embarrassed for him if he wasn’t so obviously charming, even when failing. 

“You are not very good at this, sir,” William tells him in English, still laughing. “You know, you really should consider finding a French tutor if you plan on staying in Paris.” 

He bites his lip to keep his smile from stretching his lips impossibly. The other man smells relieved and pleased, and William can unmistakably smell seasalt in his alpha scent. 

“Thank god,” the alpha says, dropping into the sofa next to William, uninvited. “I thought I’d have to suffer through the entire evening.” 

“And you, _sir_ , are you here alone?” William asks, trying to remind the alpha they are very much strangers until a formal introduction is made.

“I was invited by a friend,” he gestures towards the main hall, where people are dancing, a blurry motion of silk and chiffon twirling around. “But they seem to be indisposed.”

“How very unfortunate,” William comments, smiling kindly.

The alpha answers with a smile of his own. “I feel very fortunate myself.” 

“You are very direct for an Englishmen, sir,” William notes.

“I spent much of my childhood in the American colonies,” the alpha explains, shrugging. “I admit I had not known what it was to be truly English before my university education. And Oxford-,”

“Is not exactly polite society.” William finishes for him, his mouth twisted in understanding and the alpha smiles, smelling even more pleased.

William must admit he smells nice, welcoming and almost familiar. He feels like leaning into the alpha’s bigger frame, and it raises a faint blush over his cheeks. 

It’s unsettling more than anything. William is no innocent, he’s had alphas sit closer than this, has had alphas kiss him, has let an alpha take him (his body overwhelmed with pleasure and mind and heart filled with nothing but David, David, _David_ ), yet this is a new feeling. 

“You -,” the alpha starts saying. “That is, perhaps, you would like to dance?” 

“Yes,” William agrees in a rush, then laughs at his own haste. The complete, utter _gaucherie_. 

The alpha stands, courteously offering William his hand, leading him to where the heart of the ball is in full motion. 

He’s taller than William, and he seems even bigger now that they’re dancing side by side, but he is graceful, moving with power and authority that William finds to suit the alpha. 

William himself is taller and larger than most omegas, despite his somewhat delicate features, and he is pleased that the alpha’s scent doesn’t change as he not quite subtly admires William’s figure on the dance floor. 

“Will you tell me your name, or should I guess?” William asks when he no longer can stand the alpha’s dark eyes on him. 

His gaze flickers up, to meet William’s face as his hand reaches for his waist, turning them. 

“Auston,” he says. “Matthews.” 

“Oh. Mr. Auston Matthews,” William repeats in mock consideration, his tone playful. 

“Lord Auston Matthews, actually,” Auston corrects him, with a small smile. 

“Well,” William says, his eyebrows drawns up. “Now I’m even more disappointed with your French, _milord_.”

Auston’s scent turns sharper, and his hand tightens around William’s waist, his desire and need obvious in the smokey taste on William’s tongue. It makes William feel invincible, his body drumming with the feeling of wanting and being wanted. He can only guess how much of his own omega pheromones are distinctly filling the air between them, but it can’t be unnoticeable for Auston to react like this. They must be making quite a scene, smelling like this out in society. 

William manages two more dances, periodically shaking his head, trying to clear his senses, and eternally grateful for Paris and the casual, cheerful way the people around them seem to be smirking at them. 

“I must go,” William says finally. “My uncle must be looking for me.”

Auston makes an unhappy, needful sound and gently tries to pull William closer to him. William laughs, breathless at the small pressure on his wrist from Auston’s strong hand. 

“Tell me your name,” Auston demands, as if it’s something William owes him.

William bites his lower lip, feigning innocence. “I mustn't. It’s not very proper.” 

“Tell me,” Auston repeats, desperate and a little angry.

“Find me,” William challenges, his smile wide and full of barely concealed delight, before he slips his hand from Auston’s grip and quickly disappears amongst the crowd. 

The surprised look on Auston’s handsome face is the only thing he can think of for the rest of the night.

* * *

William doesn’t have to wait long for Auston to find him, which is very pleasing, but also means William needs to try harder to challenge Auston next time. 

“Well, this is quite an unexpected visit,” William says, walking into his uncle’s drawing room where Auston is waiting, trying to hide his delight and most likely failing. “Considering I had not invited you for a social call, let alone given you my name.” 

“That was easy to rectify,” Auston shrugs. “All I had to do was ask who was the beautiful English omega with the ugly laugh.” 

William chuckles. “Please don’t try to be charming. You really are quite dreadful at it.” 

“And you’re very badly behaved,” Auston answers immediately, then huffs at himself in frustration. He is just as handsome as William remembers from the night before, he smells just as overwhelming. 

William shrugs, unrepentant. “Well, it’s best you know now.”

“Oh, is it?” Auston asks, his tone is challenging, the air around them filling with both of their scents again. It all seems inevitable, not that William plans to resist it. 

“Well, I suppose I should give you your reward now,” William says, and then smirks playfully at Auston’s confused expression.

“My reward?”

“For finding me,” William clarifies, then continues softer. “Come closer.”

Auston doesn’t hesitate to cross the room to him in three large strides. He looms over William, his presence almost too devastating, crushing all the air from William’s lungs.

Auston’s big hands cradle William’s jaw and William closes his eyes in anticipation. It feels like Auston is everywhere, like he can pick William up and take him anywhere he wants. William might’ve started this game, but Auston is now the one setting the rules. 

“Please,” William begs shamelessly, desperate now that they’re so close, draws his arms around Auston’s shoulders, trying to keep him close. Closer. It’s rewarding to hear Auston growl under his breath and so he says it again. “Please.”

“William,” Auston whispers back, and William has never heard anyone say it like that, not even David. Like Auston needs him, like William’s a precious treasure to be buried and guarded religiously. 

Auston’s breath traces William’s lips, making them both shudder. “You must know I will most likely fall short of what you deserve,” he says.

“How so?” William asks, his fingers are clenching and unclenching over Auston’s shoulders. He wants to drown in this alpha’s scent, this impossible stranger, who he wants to be kissed by like he has never wanted anything before.

“I am headstrong,” Auston admits gruffly. “And I am not a kind man, probably not even a good one...”

He pauses. Willian can feel Auston’s chest rise and fall against his own, their bodies pressed together. He can smell their combined scent now, new and heady and exciting. He can feel Auston’s heartbeat, his breath, his strong hand holding William with authority. 

“Auston,” William moans, helpless to the way his body reacts to Auston.

“Yes, darling?” Auston teases, his thumb stroking soothingly over William’s cheekbone.

William smiles brightly, what a delightful contradiction. “Just don’t make me wait again,” he says, pulling himself up by the solid weight of Auston’s shoulders, seeking Auston’s mouth with his own.


End file.
